I'm writing for the sake of writing. Not because I have a story to tell, or a point to make. I'm writing for the sake of writing. I'm putting pen to paper so that words flow out in torrents; I do not care if they don't form coherent sentences.

I'm writing, but I'm not following my thoughts as they spiral and twist inside my brain. I'm letting them out as they are. I'm not bothering to arrange them in various sequences, I'm setting them free.

I'm still writing, but I'm writing for the sake of writing, because I want to feel the rather selfish exultation of being able to string letters into words.

I'm done writing, and I now exist in a void where millions of words once stood.